


Below the Bible Belt

by Nanenna



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Do not post to another site, Do not repost, Double Penetration, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tentacles (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), Fellcest - Freeform, Fontcest, Incest, Kedgeup, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Sibling Incest, Some Plot, SpicyKustard, Tentacle Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Vaginal Sex, kustard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 05:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20130052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanenna/pseuds/Nanenna
Summary: Sans, Red, and Edge make a nun Sanswich.





	Below the Bible Belt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nilchance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/gifts).
  * Inspired by [ain't this the life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319578) by [nilchance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/pseuds/nilchance). 

> A big thank you to Nilchance for letting me play in their sandbox! This is meant to be a (non-canon) part of [Ain't This the Life](https://archiveofourown.org/series/896544), specifically it takes place "some time later" after the boys have worked out some issues and entered a nice <strike>healthy</strike> <strike>committed</strike> functional poly.
> 
> Also a big thank you to Skerb, TheSinBubble, and Ryn for being horrible enablers. Without them this wouldn't have been written for a while yet. It's my first attempt at smut so I'm pretty nervous, but it's here and I hope you enjoy!

Red rarely made requests about what they did in the bedroom, usually just going along with whatever Edge or Sans wanted or going ahead with barely more than a brief check on consent. So when he came to Edge with an idea for something he wanted to try, something that would take more planning ahead than pulling out the water proof bedding, Edge had been suspicious. But this was the kind of behavior Edge wanted to encourage, so he had sat down alongside Sans and listened. When Red had laid out his idea Edge had felt his suspicions were fully justified and would have refused to take part outright if it weren’t for Sans.

Sans liked Red’s idea.

Oh he’d tried to hide it, he’d gotten better about admitting he actually wanted things but he was still a bundle of trauma induced neuroses hidden badly under a stained hoodie and two faded T-shirts. But there’d been a gleam to his eyelights at the suggestion, a subtle shift in his grin, the faintest hint of a blush. Edge had folded like one of Frisk’s political opponents.

So here he was, wearing a red vest with swirling black scrollwork, tight leather pants, and a pair of black, patent leather loafers. All items that had already been in his closet (and if this particular pair of pants had gotten approving looks from both Red and Sans on multiple occasions well… that was neither here nor there). The horns had taken a bit more effort to procure, he’d spent a while researching which materials would live up this high standards, browsing reviews on offered products, searching, searching, and searching for a pair that wasn’t too garish, too large, too small, too needlessly complicated. The glue holding them firmly <strike>enough to withstand tugging</strike> to his head had actually been recommended by Alphys, along with a solvent that would remove the glue without damaging the horns or his skull. It turned out that even if Alphys hadn’t had much chance to indulge yet she had an avid interest in something called “cosplay.” She had also recommended the cosmetic product he was currently drawing little symbols on himself with in “blood of my enemies” red, a name that had endeared him the moment he’d seen it. Not that Sans or Red ever needed to know.

Satisfied with his appearance, Edge replaced the cap on the pen and tucked it into his inventory. One last once over in the bathroom mirror, a tug on one of his horns to test the glue, then a nod of approval. He left the bathroom to find Red leaning against the door frame of his bedroom. In his normal clothes. Edge resisted the urge to pinch the bridge between his eye sockets.

“You’re looking pretty good, boss.” Red was looking him up and down appreciatively, “Really went all out.”

“And you haven’t even started getting ready yet.” Edge crossed his arms and glared down at his brother.

“Sure I am, why d’ya think I got this on?” Red plucked at his shirt, which was black with a graphic of a skull sporting several horns backed by what Edge now recognized as a pentagram, which was on fire, and over the whole thing was suitably illegible writing, likely the name of some band that thought they could make up for a complete lack of musical talent with loud screeching. Over that was his usual coat, and under them both was his usual ratty shorts.

“That is not a costume.”

“And aside from them shiny new accessories and the makeup neither is that getup.”

“It’s not makeup!” Edge defended before realizing Red was deflecting. “And it’s still more effort that you put in, this was _your_ idea.”

“Yeah, it’s real sweet of you and Sans to play along just for little ol’ me.”

Edge crossed his arms. “I won’t “play along” unless you put in at least the token amount of effort, which you haven’t.”

“Relax, I got this.” Red put his hand low and behind him, miming pulling something from his non-existent ass as he took it out of his inventory. “Tada.” It was a headband. A cloth covered headband with a pair of small, red, sequin covered horns and a generous amount of long, feathery “fuzz” at their bases.

“What is that?” Edge asked in derision. It took all his effort not to back away from the cheap, awful thing like it carried contagious diseases.

“It’s my horns,” Red replied with a wide smirk before plopping the gaudy abomination on his skull.

Edge sighed, then leaned forward and carefully straightened them. “Do you have something to keep them on? They’ll fall off the moment we start.”

“So you want to stare at them the whole time?” Red raised a brow ridge.

“Good point. And here, at least let me make us match.” Edge pulled the red eyeliner from his inventory and crouched down to apply it. Red rolled his eyes, but held still as Edge carefully drew a pentagram dead center on his forehead. “There, now we match.”

Red reached up to touch it, Edge smacked his hand away.

“Don’t smudge it!” It’s not like he’d even feel it.

“Heh, sure thing, boss.” Red shoved his hands in his pockets, grinning all the wider. “So, we ready to get this party started?”

“Not hardly, but I suppose it’ll have to do.” Next time whatever these two troublemakers decided to try Edge would buy props for Red as well, possibly even Sans too, and dress them up himself. Oh the things he could tease them with while getting ready.

Edge tucked away those lovely ideas for later and knocked on his bedroom door, which felt strange, but he wasn’t going to invade Sans’s privacy. A little too late he realized what he’d just done.

“Who’s there?”

“Are you ready?” Edge asked, trying to avoid as many jokes as he could, especially when he didn’t have any prepared.

“Just a sec.” There was some rustling from the other side of the door, the faint sound of bony feet against carpet, then the muffled sound of fabric shifting. “Okay, c’mon in.”

Edge took a deep breath, they’d agreed beforehand that the scene would start once Edge and Red entered the bedroom, he wanted to be in character and ready to go when that happened. Edge opened the door, the very picture of a demonic being sneaking in where he’s very much not wanted. He’d barely taken a step into the room when he froze, inadvertently blocking Red from entering (by conventional means, anyway), taking in the view before him, mind shutting down as it was torn in two different directions.

Sans was kneeling by the bed, the very picture of piety as he held his hands up before him, fingers laced together, eye sockets gently closed. On his head was the expected black veil a nun wore, but the rest of his costume! There was a gap in the top where the… well… Edge was going to call it a dress for lack of a better word. A gap where the top of the dress didn’t quite meet the bottom of the veil that lay over Sans’s shoulders, a cross connecting the two. It had no sleeves either, instead Sans wore a pair of matching fingerless, opera length gloves with crosses embroidered on them. And the dress was so short! It came down to just above mid thigh at its longest, but it dipped up to barely cover Sans’s pelvis, more decorative crosses embroidered on the apex. And then there were the thigh high stockings. They must have been a special order, how else could Sans find a pair that were sized to fit over bare bone? Finishing off the whole thing was a pair of garters just above the stockings, attached to them by a thin strip of gold fabric.

Edge was caught somewhere between “that’s clearly not a nun’s habit” and “Sans looks really good in that.” No matter how obviously fetish the costume’s design, it had clearly been tailored to fit Sans, hugging his ribs without squeezing them, tapering into his empty abdominal cavity, then flaring back out over his pelvis. On the one hand it seemed like Sans hadn’t even done any basic research, but on the other he’d put in far more effort than Edge would have ever expected.

A rumble coming from his side distracted Edge, he looked down to see Red eyeing Sans hungrily, an eager gleam in his eyelights. Perhaps Sans had done his research after all.

“Oh heavens to Betsy, demons!” Sans said dramatically.

Edge did sigh then, “That’s not a nun’s habit.”

“What?” Sans leaned back a little, twisted to look up at them.

“That’s not a real nun habit,” Edge repeated.

“Wait, what?” Red asked incredulously. “Nuns are real?”

Edge sputtered, “What?! Yes, nuns are real! You’re the one who asked for this????”

“I just thought they were made up for porn, like cable repair men and vampires.”

Edge gave in and buried his face in his palm.

There was the sound of fabric shifting, then from higher up than before Sans’s voice trembled, “You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Edge said quickly, looking up to see Sans standing before them, not looking at either of them as he plucked nervously at his hem, eyelights averted, a soft blush spreading across his face.

“Nah, sweetheart,” Red purred, already in front of Edge without having gone around him, “you look great. I could just eat you up.” He licked his teeth lasciviously and reached out to run gentle claws along the veil.

Sans’s blush turned from nervous to shyly pleased, then he turned soft eyelights up to Edge. “You still okay with this? We don’t have to keep going if you’re not into it.”

Red looked up at him as well, face a mask of indifference Edge wouldn’t have seen through if he didn’t know his brother so well. “I was just a little surprised, you do look good Sans. Like a little lost lamb,” Edge rumbled, slipping back into character. He cradled Sans’s face as he pulled him in for a kiss, Sans opened up beautifully for him, allowing their tongues to slide against each other as Edge pushed him back towards the bed. Rather than push him onto it, Edge put his hands on Sans’s shoulders and started turning him around. Sans looked up at him, eyelights hazing with confusion. “We interrupted your prayer, sister…”

Red snorted, Edge ignored him.

“Go on, finish your prayer.” Edge pushed down, a shot of heat buzzed down his spine to settle uncomfortably in his pelvis as he watched Sans sink to his knees.

“C’mon, boss, give him something to pray to.” Red pat the bed right by where Sans was kneeling.

They hadn’t discussed this beforehand, but Edge’s pants were already growing tight and Sans was looking up at him so eagerly. Edge sat on the bed, knees spread wide in invitation. Sans obligingly scooted over to kneel right in front of him, making Edge’s pants grow impossibly tighter. Sans started eagerly fumbling with his belt buckle, Edge suddenly regretted wearing the one with the skull and crossbones on it, the thing could be a bit fiddly. Red chose that moment to make things more complicated, he flopped over Sans’s back, draping his arms over Sans’s shoulders like he was going to help with the belt. He didn’t, of course.

“How about you recite the Lord’s prayer, sweetheart?” Red purred just loud enough for Edge to hear.

“Uh…” Sans said eloquently while he continued to fumble with the buckle. Edge was about to just do it himself when Sans started talking again, “As I lay down uh… to sleep…”

Edge wasn’t sure that was the right prayer, but he only knew what little he researched for their costumes and what he’s picked up from working with humans

“Hot,” Red said with a wide grin.

Sans finally managed to get the belt unbuckled, then slowly slid down the zipper, causing Edge’s dick to spring out. He groaned at the feel of the cool air hitting his freed dick, and continued when Sans’s hot breath hit him.

“C’mon, sister, finish your prayer,” Red encouraged.

“Can’t,” Sans replied, “I got this idol to pray to instead.” Sans leaned forward and gave Edge a lick from root to tip, ending by taking the head into his mouth all in one smooth motion. One hand gripped the base of his dick as he started working it. Edge couldn’t help putting a hand on the back of Sans’s skull, moaning when Sans started licking down the underside with his very agile tongue. Red leaned forward, chin practically resting on Sans’s shoulder as his hands started skimming over ribs, moving around Sans’s arms to reach further and further down. Whatever he did caused Sans to jump, giving Edge a good squeeze. Edge threw his head back at the sensation.

Sans gasped, then desperately and sloppily tried to get back to what he was doing, all but shoving Edge’s dick in his mouth. He managed to find a rhythm, slowly bobbing his head as he worked further and further down Edge’s dick. Then Red must have done something else because Sans moaned, the vibration sent another shot of heat up Edge’s spine.

“That’s it,” Red said, soft and sultry. “Go on, I know you can take more. Keep going.” And Sans did, a warm throat coalescing around Edge’s cock as he swallowed him down. Tears welled up in Sans’s eye sockets. “Yeah, good boy.” Sans swallowed again, Edge groaned at the sensation. It took what little self control Edge had left not to just rut into Sans’s mouth. “How about I add another finger?”

Sans keened at that, nearly causing Edge to lose control. The fingers not tangled in the stupid veil Sans was wearing were gripping the bedding, it crinkled in protest. Then Sans started up again, swallowing around Edge. The tight heat around him was too much, with a strangled cry Edge tipped over the edge.

He looked down to see Red behind Sans with a smug grin across his face, Sans himself looking up at Edge, his cock still in his mouth, red magic dribbling from the corners. His soul squeezed at the sight, too much to bear in that moment. The hand behind Sans’s skull pulled him off his dick and up, the other gently cradled his face as he guided him up into a kiss. The taste of himself on Sans’s tongue was heady and electrifying, a precious gift he’d fight fang and claw to keep. Edge pulled Sans close, deepening the kiss. Sans shuddered and whined, whether from the kiss or whatever Red was currently doing he didn’t know.

Edge ended the kiss, still gently cradling Sans’s face. “That was wonderful.

The expression on Sans’s face was so vulnerable it was hard to look at. Then Sans shuddered again, Red pushing himself into Edge’s field of vision. “Yeah, sweetheart, you took real good care of him.”

Edge pulled Red into a kiss, letting him taste the lingering traces of Sans and his own release, then pulled back. “Ready for the main event?”

Red’s grin sharpened, eyelights burning bright. “Yep,” he loudly popped the P just to annoy Edge.

“Take this off.” Edge tugged at Red’s jacket, which Red quickly slipped off and tossed to the side, his shorts just as quickly following. Edge slipped easily out of his loafers, then lifted his hips to begin the process of peeling out of his pants. Two sets of eager hands began helping him, Edge ended up bracing himself on the bed as Sans and Red each took a pant leg to slowly peel off him, both keeping eyelight contact the entire time. Red took the pants from Sans, balling them up as Sans lunged eagerly for Edge again and unbuttoned his vest. He slid the vest down Edge’s arms, close enough for Edge to tilt his head down and steal a kiss before Sans let the vest drop to the floor. His pants were similarly left in a lump half on Red’s jacket. Edge would normally neatly fold them and place them out of the way, but he was impatient enough to just let them lie as Red climbed onto the bed.

Red grinned smugly from where he lounged against the pillows, his devil horns only just barely still on, a mass of tentacles already squirming between his legs. He raised a hand, making a “come hither” motion. Sans climbed onto the bed, one of Edge’s hands at his back as a guide. Between him and Red they soon had Sans kneeling over Red’s legs, back to him, legs spread wide with the dress bundled up and out of the way of his pretty blue pussy, already dripping onto the bed below him.

Edge slipped his own legs under them both, his dick already replaced by his own writhing set of tentacles. They twined about Sans’s femurs and spine, rubbing against the slick tentacles Red had already wrapped around their lover. Twin gasps of pleasure made him smile, if he’d still had his dick out that alone would’ve been enough to get him hard again. Instead he put his hands on Sans, one cradling his back for support while the other slipped down the cleft of his very generous ass.

“Let’s see how you’re doing, love.” He easily slipped a finger into Sans’s ass, finding it already loose. He added another and was rewarded with a lovely moan.

“I warmed him up a little while he was working you over.” Red threw in a wink as he dragged a tongue over his teeth.

“Yeah, got my engine revving, think I’m gonna need an oil change soon.”

Edge ignored Sans’s ridiculous babbling, instead he looked Red right in the eye from over Sans’s shoulder. “You did well.”

Red grinned all the wider, projecting smug confidence even if Edge could see the genuine pleasure at the praise lurking underneath.

“He’s real good at the pity orgasms,” Sans agreed breathily.

Red barked a short laugh, then pushed himself to sit up, his front flush with Sans’s back. Hands snaked between Sans and Edge, one wrapped around Sans’s ribs while the other drifted lower. Sans tensed then, breathing unsteadily as his hands clung to the back of Edge’s ribs. He didn’t have Red’s claws, his blunt fingertips weren’t going to leave many marks, Edge still reveled in the feeling. His tentacles eagerly climbed higher, rubbing between the dress and Sans’s spine and ribs. The dress was surprisingly soft and smooth, almost silky, it wasn’t what he expected given how cheap it looked.

“Pity orgasms alright,” Red continued maliciously. “You’re so pitiful I have to give you orgasms.”

Edge rubbed a tentacle up against Sans’s lips (and consequently Red’s knuckles), stealing whatever smart remark Sans was going to respond with. He felt a tentacle prodding his hand still busily working Sans’s ass, he pulled his fingers out, then spread his ass cheeks for easier access. Sans gasped and clung all the harder, his fingers scraping over the back of Edge’s ribs. Red helpfully splayed open Sans’s pussy, Edge took the invitation and slowly inched his way in.

“Oh fuck,” Sans whispered like a prayer, his spine arcing back.

Edge paused, giving Sans a moment to adjust. “How’s that?”

“It’s good,” Sans gasped, fingers tense. “Keep going.”

“Heh, whatever you say, sister.”

Edge could feel when Red started moving again, just a thin layer of magic flesh between them. Edge’s own tentacle undulated, pulling a hissing gasp from Sans along with a creak from Edge’s own bones where Sans is tightly gripping him. Edge does it again before going back to slowly filling Sans up, savoring his blown out eyelights and expressions as he goes.

Red slouched to plop a chin on Sans’s shoulder, “How ‘bout you finish that prayer, sister.”

“F-fuck you,” Sans stuttered out.

“That’s not very child of God of you,” Red replied with a laugh. Sans shuddered, likely from the vibration. They were pressed so close together even Edge could feel it.

“Be careful, sister, you wouldn’t want to blaspheme,” Edge added, pitching his voice low and husky. He pulled out a little, then thrust back in, stealing whatever response Sans was going to come back with again. Red took that as his cue to thrust as well, easily matching the slow rhythm Edge set, the two working together like a well oiled machine, pistons in counterpoint.

“That’s it, sweetheart, you’re doing so good. Lookit you, taking us both so deep, God yer so tight. Feel so good.” Red’s hand over Sans’s chest was gently, idly petting the bit of bone peeking through the dress’s gap. His other hand, glistening with blue slick, came up to gently caress Sans’s neck before slowly, gently clamping down. Sans cried out, his walls fluttering caused Edge to stutter and stop, Red followed suit as they gave Sans a chance to recover. Sans went limp, body drooping as his every joint lost its tension. Edge adjusted his arms so they better supported Sans’s weight, his skull tipped forward to rest on Edge’s sternum.

“So good for us, so perfect,” Edge murmured. Sans gave a quiet whine.

“That good for you too, sweetheart? Let’s see how many more times we can make you cum.”

The pair started thrusting again, quickly picking up speed. Sans tensed up again, already right back at the brink. His eyes squeezed tight as he tried so hard to keep control. “Do you like that, sister?” Edge asked wickedly, voice a low murmur against Sans’s skull.

Sans said, “Oh god,” while taking in a short, sharp breath. Then he repeated it. “Oh god,” said over and over again, a quiet chant in time with their thrusts.

“You praying, sister?” Red asked with the widest smirk. Edge doesn’t know why, but that’s the moment he realizes the hideous headband is still clinging stubbornly to his skull. He decides to take revenge by moving one of his hands to Red’s ribs, running a finger up his side. Red stuttered, his tentacles all writhing in tandem. Edge never slowed his pace.

“I think our little lost lamb is blaspheming,” Edge remarked into the moment of silence that followed.

Sans’s arms had tensed up again, one clinging desperately to Edge’s back and the other trailed up to grip the back of his skull, a grip that slipped up until he found one of Edge’s horns and clung to it. Edge trailed his free hand down, tracing over every vertebra through the cheap dress on his way down. When he reached Sans’s sacrum he started tracing the ridges and holes found there.

Sans whined, his whole face screwed up tighter than ever. The whine grew into a wail that broke off into a choked gasp, then he relaxed as he finally, wonderfully gave up control. Sans’s body leaned back into Red this time, Edge gently cradled his face, eagerly eating up his wonderful expression. For a little while his clever, overworked mind was quiet, unable to wallow in any of his usual self hatred.

“You still with us, love?” Edge asked gently.

Sans tried to speak, but his voice cracked. Instead he just nodded.

“We fucked him up real good,” Red laughed, his hands still roaming over Sans’s ribs.

“Do you want to stop?”

Sans shook his head. That wasn’t quite good enough for Edge.

“If you can’t use your words it’s better to just stop now.” He started to pull out.

Sans whined, hips jerking. “Wait! D-don’t,” Sans stuttered. Edge stopped, waiting for Sans to gather himself together enough to speak. Red deciding to lean down and start nibbling at Sans’s neck and clavicle didn’t help matters.

“It hasn’t uh,” Sans’s breath hitched, “hasn’t been a religious experience yet,” he managed to slur out. Then he grinned up at Edge expectantly.

If he can make bad jokes, then he can keep going. Edge smirked himself as he thrust harshly back in, starting up a punishing pace that Red struggled at first to keep up with. Their breathing was unsteady, Sans limp between them. Neither of them were going to last much longer.

Red leaned in a little closer, face pressed to the side of Sans’s skull as he lowly murmured out another comment, pausing to catch his breath here and there. “How’s it feel, sister? Breaking your vow of chastity? Letting a pair of unholy demons defile you? Such a naughty little nun.”

Sans whined.

“But so good to us, so sweet,” Edge murmured against the other side of Sans’s skull, valiantly fighting to keep his breathing even. “Giving us a little taste of heaven.”

Sans cums again, spine arching back into Red, his heels digging into the bed behind Edge, eye sockets squeezed tightly shut. Edge leaned forward to get his hands on Red’s scapula and drag his claws across them just hard enough to sting while simultaneously writhing his tentacles, including the one that had snuck into position to dart into Red’s pelvis. Red shuddered, then came, clinging desperately to Sans. Edge isn’t far behind, the pair of them leaving a sticky, wet mess over all the pillows, Sans, themselves, and the bedspread.

The three of them are left panting and weak, it takes all of Edge’s self control not to simply flop on top of the other two. He helped ease Red down onto the pillows instead, Sans still held to his chest. Sans groaned, his head lolling. Edge slowly pulled out, because it’s rude to just dismiss your ecto while still inside someone, _Red_. He managed to maneuver around Sans and Red to lay down beside them, pulling Sans off Red just enough to be wedged between them. Sans whimpered at the movement, clinging to Edge.

“You were wonderful, love.”

“Yeah, really spoiling us.”

Sans chose not to respond, burrowing into their hold instead. Edge can see the edge of a blush peeking out where Sans was hiding his face.

Edge settled in to enjoy the contact, pulling Sans and Red both close as their breathing settled down. Edge cradled the back of Sans’s skull while Red threw an arm over his ribs, his fingers just brushing Edge’s bones. Edge squirmed closer, or tried to anyway. This was nice, this was really nice. Just a moment to catch his breath, coming twice like that, let alone with tentacles, took a bit out of him. Just a moment more… but he can feel their jizz starting to cool, the whole bed is wet, and Sans is still in that ridiculous dress.

Trying to fit all three of them into their shower would be a logistical nightmare, Edge would have to do with a stop gap measure until they could be trusted to stand. He shifted, raising himself up to get out of bed. Sans doesn’t whimper, not quite, but it’s a near sound. Edge fondly ran a hand over his skull.

“I’m not going far, I just want to get us cleaned up a bit.”

“C’mere,” Red slurred as he tugged Sans toward him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Edge helpfully rolled Sans over, letting him cuddle into Red’s arms. He also pulled two juice boxes from his inventory, both fruit punch flavored, and handed them over. That taken care of, he finally managed to escape the bed and, with only a brief glance back at Red and Sans cuddled together slurping their juice while giving each other knowing grins, he left the bedroom.

He returned shortly with fluffy towels, a bowl of warm water, and several washcloths. He wouldn’t say aftercare was his favorite part of sex, but he also wouldn’t say he doesn’t enjoy it either. He kneeled before his lovers, gently running a washcloth over Sans’s foot. Sans and Red groaned, then sat up and each reached for a washcloth of their own, sloppily wiping up the worst of it where they could easily reach.

Edge was about to ask who wanted the shower first (as if he wasn’t going to send Red or himself in with Sans to keep him from drowning) when Sans broke the comfortable silence, “So uh… how do you feel about lemon stealing whores?”


End file.
